


Puzzle

by Minuialeth75



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuialeth75/pseuds/Minuialeth75
Summary: Steve remembers sitting in his hospital bed, feeling small and miserable and unworthy.He can’t say he feels better right now, sitting on his couch.“You’ve not been sleeping,” is the first thing Bucky says.





	Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> Set right after Captain America: The Winter Soldier. So spoilers up to that movie.  
> Happy ending, because I've been traumatised by Avengers: Infinity War.

Steve’s been back in New-York for a month when the tell-tale prickling at the back of his neck begins.  
He’s sure he’s being watched. Not because he has the instincts of a soldier but because he retained those of a bullied scrawny kid. The ones that sometimes prevented him from being cornered somewhere deserted – somewhere Bucky wasn’t – when he least expected it.

 

The leads he had in Europe for Bucky have led to nowhere. Either Bucky has never been there, either he’s left without any trace.  
Steve could have stayed in Europe a while longer but something had pushed him back here.  
It was five months since he had awoken in a hospital after Bucky had saved his life. Because it couldn’t have been anyone else than Bucky. If Hydra hadn’t managed to recapture him – and Steve hoped to God they hadn’t – it meant that Bucky hadn’t had any of their drugs and mind wipes inflicted to him in a while.  
He had reasoned that the Winter Soldier would have most probably fallen back to some secret Hydra facility in Europe. But Bucky? Bucky could very well have stayed in an environment that hopefully was starting to feel familiar.  
So Steve had asked Natasha for a bit of help, which she had provided, a knowing look in her eyes. He now had a flat in Brooklyn, under the radar – except for his friends – bug free, without any spying neighbors. Well, the neighbors were probably spying on him, but it was the expected, gossipy kind of spying.

 

Steve is almost sure that it’s some Hydra agent – or agents – spying on him.  
At first he wonders why they don’t try killing him upfront but he realizes that maybe they think he knows where Bucky is, and they figure he’ll lead them to him at some point.  
The Winter Soldier was their prized weapon. They must be furious to have lost him.

He doesn’t want them to become aware he know they’re onto him, so he doesn’t change his routine. He just tries to not look like he’s on edge which isn’t easy, because he is. It’s not like he can do the groceries with his shield on his back, that’d look suspicious. 

He turns in the fruits and vegetables aisle and there it is, the familiar prickling. He surreptitiously checks his surroundings while pretending to hesitate between two sorts of apple. No one suspicious looking, unless Hydra recruits toddlers. He sighs. Damn, they’re good.

What he doesn’t get is that it happens when he’s in public places. He never feels spied on in his flat or strolling alone in a street. It’s when he’s in a café, a supermarket, a clothing store, the garage to get his motorcycle checked, the farmers market on Saturdays… Are they hoping to drive him crazy? Because it’s sure starting to work. And he can’t ask Natasha – who’s way better than he is at spotting spies – because they would recognize her and they’d know he suspects something.  
He doesn’t want to live at the new Avengers compound because he loves his flat, damn it, and that would be admitting a sort of defeat.  
______________________________

Steve wakes up abruptly, sitting upright in his bed, gasping for breath. He looks at the alarm clock. 2:54 am.  
He presses the heels of his palms on his eyes, hoping to erase what he just dreamt about. The old nightmare – a memory – had resurfaced after fighting Bucky on the helicarrier. It was Bucky falling off the train, down that deep snowy ravine. He first had the nightmare just after waking up from his 70 years sleep in the ice. But now it was made worse by the fact that he knew that Bucky had survived the fall and had been unwillingly transformed into a killing machine. If Bucky is starting to remember, he can’t imagine what kind of nightmares he must be having.  
Steve can’t help but think that Bucky must be all alone somewhere, maybe sleeping rough, because it’s not like he can rely on the Hydra network he had. Is he even eating properly?  
He doesn’t want to picture how things would have been like if S.H.I.E.L.D hadn’t been there to provide for him when he woke up, even if the notion is very bittersweet now. They hadn’t helped him out of their good hearts.

He sighs. He’s never going to fall back asleep, might as well get up and do something useful.  
He turns almost all the flat’s lights on, makes himself coffee, and goes to open his sketchbook.

The drawings and doodles are mostly architectural: buildings, streets, shop windows. Things that had changed since his time, things that hadn’t so much. And there’s this one drawing of Bucky.  
He made it while he was still in the hospital, after asking Sam if he could bring him his art supplies. Sam had gaped in surprise and he had realized he had never told him about his hobby.  
He had waited to be alone to put pencil to paper, intending to draw the Bucky he remembered from before the war. But in spite of himself, the Bucky of his portrait had ended up with long hair and haunted eyes. That’s when he had understood that he’d never get his old Bucky back. He had lost him a long time ago, even before rescuing him from Zola’s clutches. And experiments. Because otherwise there was no way Bucky would have survived that fall.  
He had been so happy to have his friend back – to have been the one to rescue him, for once – that he hadn’t seen the shadows in his eyes. He had been so exhilarated to be able to do what he had wanted to do since the beginning of the war – to fight, to make a difference – that he hadn’t paid enough attention to Bucky. Bucky who had always made time for him, had always recognized the first signs of an illness when he was still denying he felt off, who had given him almost all of his hard-earned food when he was sick, despite the fact that Bucky needed the energy to work.  
Steve remembers sitting in his hospital bed, feeling small and miserable and unworthy.  
He can’t say he feels better right now, sitting on his couch.  
______________________________

Steve spends two weeks like this. Being watched and followed almost everywhere he goes and barely sleeping at night because of the nightmares. Well, the one nightmare.  
He’s starting to think that maybe he should talk about it to Sam. Thanks to the serum, he doesn’t need a lot of sleep, but it’s gotten to a point he’s feeling it.  
It’s 2 am and all the lights in his flat are on. Again. He’s about to pour himself some coffee when he thinks he hears something. Like a soft knock on his door? He shakes his head. He really has to talk to Sam.  
He’s finished pouring when he hears it again. What in the… He goes to his door and looks through the peephole, expecting the hall to be empty. Except it’s not. All he can see at first is a green cap that has seen better days and dark longish hair. Then the person moves slightly. He’d know that jawline anywhere.  
Steve unlocks the door with shaking hands. Bucky looks up, eyes searching. He’s looked better but he’s not gaunt. Apparently he’s been able to feed himself.  
Steve refrains from pulling him in – because he’s not sure Bucky’s not going to bolt and run away – and leaves plenty of space for Bucky to enter on his own and not feel trapped in.  
Steve also refrains from locking the door after him for the same reason.

“You’ve not been sleeping,” is the first thing Bucky says.  
Two things hit Steve at once, making him reel. The way Bucky looks at him is no longer confused or wary. It’s knowing. Bucky _knows_ him. And…  
“You’ve been following me!” Steve blurts, and Bucky’s mouth thins. “Not that I minded.” Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “I just wondered who it was, that’s all.” Bucky’s face is disbelieving. “Okay, I thought it was Hydra but couldn’t figure out why they didn’t try to get me.”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to…” Bucky looks down briefly. “I was trying to remember you more and I thought that maybe if I saw you doing everyday things, it’d help.”  
“It’s okay.” Steve would rather cut his tongue than tell Bucky it had driven him nuts. “And… did it work?”  
“I’m here.” Bucky shrugs.  
Steve has the impression that there’s a lot Bucky’s not telling him. “How much do you remember?” Bucky looks away, jaw working, and Steve’s heart breaks a little because he realizes that, like he feared, Bucky remembers a lot of the bad along the good. Probably a lot more bad than good.  
“I wish it had been me instead of you,” he blurts. Bucky’s face is the picture of shock. “I mean… I was sleeping in the ice, not aware of anything. I had it easy.”  
“They wouldn’t have been able to use you. It wouldn’t have worked. You’re too good a person.”  
Steve feels like he’s been sucker punched. “Buck, what?” He has this sudden urge to touch, to reassure, but he’s not sure Bucky is okay with physical contact so he doesn’t, hands clenching at his sides. “Surely you don’t really think that?”  
Bucky doesn’t answer but his face says it all.  
Steve throws caution to the wind and steps close to his friend, who glances down. Steve’s hands are itching to make him look up. “Buck… don’t you realise? Why do you think they had to wipe your mind over and over and keep you in cryo between each mission?”  
Bucky looks up. Steve thinks for a moment that he’s going to step back and put some distance between them but if anything, he leans a bit closer. But there’s no real understanding on his face.

Steve realizes with a pang that the brainwashing and the memory wipes over the decades probably made him lose sense of himself, of what was happening to him and of Hydra’s plan. He must have thought they were torturing him for the fun of it.  
“They had to keep a tight control on you otherwise you’d have turned on them a long time ago. That’s who you are, Buck. They had to wipe your mind over and over so you wouldn’t remember the wonderful, good man you are. And even that didn’t work for long, didn’t it?”  
Bucky was looking at him like… Like he hadn’t in a long while. He was getting through to him.

“After… After I was sent to kill you and you recognized me… I asked them who you were… I told them I thought I knew you. They said they had to put me back in cryo, that I had been out for too long. But instead Pierce had them wipe my mind again so I could continue the mission. I remember that.”

Steve doesn’t think he has ever felt a wave of anger that strong. Bucky had started to recognize him. Pierce had been there, watching Bucky being tortured. Ordering Bucky’s torture. Pierce’s death had been too swift.

“Don’t go there,” Bucky says, touching his arm in a calming gesture. Steve is hit by how much he has missed him. By how he had felt adrift in his new world until he saw him. Suddenly he can’t stand the thought of not knowing where Bucky is.

“Spend the rest of the night here? Get a good night’s sleep?”  
Bucky freezes. Steve is torn because he really wants Bucky to stay but Bucky hasn’t had any free will for the past 70 years, certainly not any choice in where or when he was sleeping.  
“It’s not… You can leave if you want but… I’ve been worried about you.”  
That’s a bit low but it’s not like it’s a lie.  
“I… Are you sure…”  
Bucky’s hesitation breaks Steve’s heart. They used to share a bed for warmth without a second thought during the worst of winters or when he was sick.  
“You probably don’t remember but you’ve taken care of me so many times, in so many ways, since we were kids. Please, let me do the same for you.” Steve’s tone is supplicating. He doesn’t mind Bucky seeing him like that. It’s Bucky.  
“I think I remember some things. Like… I made you soup?”  
“It was supposed to be chicken soup but meat wasn’t cheap so it was more like a hot broth most of the time. But it was so good,” Steve reminisces with a strangled voice. He had never dared hoping that Bucky would be able to remember things like that.

“Look, do you want to eat something before going to bed?” Anything to distract Bucky from the fact that he’s very near tears. He doesn’t want Bucky to realize that his returning memories are important to him. He doesn’t want Bucky to put unnecessary pressure on himself to remember. He wants Bucky to feel comfortable with him. He wants Bucky to be. Just _be_.

Bucky shakes his head. “No, thanks. I just… I could use some sleep.” His shoulders slump a bit.  
The fact that Bucky seems to think he’s going to feel safe enough in his flat to sleep… “I have to warn you, I’m probably going to have nightmares.”  
Steve throws him a look. “Bucky, you’ve seen how I’ve been sleeping.”  
“Nightmares?”  
“Yeah.”  
Bucky doesn’t ask, just like Steve didn’t.

Steve heads to his bedroom on autopilot and Bucky follows him. He stops dead at the entrance, though. “I’m not gonna steal your bed. The couch looked comfortable.” Bucky jerks his thumb towards the living room.  
Steve suddenly realizes what he was doing, which old pattern his tired brain had fallen back to. He quickly covers up his misstep. “You sure?”  
“I’ve not exactly been sleeping in palaces lately. The couch will be perfect.”  
“Okay. Hmmm, wait a minute…”  
Steve goes to his dresser and gets several blankets. He remembers thinking he’d never feel warm again just after being out of the ice and he’s got a feeling that maybe Bucky is still in that stage. He eyes one of the two pillows on his bed and puts it on the pile of blankets on his arm.

“Are you trying to smother me to death?” The sarcasm in Bucky’s tone is unmistakable.  
Steve has missed this with Bucky, too.  
“Damn, you’ve uncovered my evil plan. You’re gonna sleep with that ugly cap on?”  
“You know what, I might,” Bucky retorts, mock saluting him with the dirty cap.  
Steve shakes his head in mock disapproval. “There are pyjamas in the first drawer, help yourself,” he says, pointing to his chest of drawers as he exits for the living room.  
“Okay, okay, coming, ya punk,” Bucky mutters and Steve is so shocked he almost trips on his way out.  
Bucky hasn’t called him “punk” in… decades. He quickly goes to the living room and starts to place the pillow and blankets on the couch to recover.

He feels Bucky’s presence behind him after a while and turns. “There, you’re all settled. Tell me if you ne…” Bucky’s changed into pyjama bottoms and a tee-shirt. The cap is off and he’s barefoot. He looks… soft and vulnerable, even with his metal arm visible. “If you need anything.”

“Why are you doing all this?”  
Bucky doesn’t say “I tried to kill you” but Steve hears it all the same.

“Because you’re my friend and you…” Steve was going to say “you need me” but he figures a whole bunch of people at Hydra must have used this line on him. “It’s my role to take care of you. It’s my turn, pal.”  
Bucky looks at him, his eyes a bit too bright. Steve says nothing more.  
______________________________

After hesitating, Steve leaves his bedroom’s door open. After the sounds of Bucky settling in, the living room is quiet. Steve choses to believe it’s a good sign.  
Steve first thinks he’s going to pretend sleeping and read instead, but in the end, he changes into his own pyjamas and lies down. He falls asleep without even realizing it.  
_____________________________

Something wakes Steve up. Which comes as a shock, because it means he fell asleep in the first place.  
His heart leaps in his chest when he realizes that there are noises coming from his living room. He half stumbles from his bed but then his brain comes fully online and he remembers that _Bucky_ is here. Bucky stayed.  
Steve wastes no time in leaving his bedroom, padding barefoot towards the noises.

There also are delicious smells, Steve notices as he’s met by the sight of Bucky in his open plan kitchen, still in pyjamas. Making pancakes. There’s also coffee brewing.  
The spectacle is achingly familiar. Bucky was almost always the one doing the cooking, because his Ma had taught him to make miracles with few things.

“The state of your fridge and cupboards is appalling,” Bucky says without turning, adding another pancake to the already impressive pile.  
“Today was groceries day. I’m surprised you even found eggs.”

Bucky turns to answer. His eyes widen. “Are you really wearing a Captain America tee-shirt?”  
Steve can feel his ears reddening. He didn’t really think about what he was wearing before coming to the kitchen. “That was someone’s idea of a funny gift. I can’t wear it anywhere else.”  
“You don’t say.” Bucky’s tone is sarcastic.

Now that he can see Bucky’s face, Steve realizes that the dark marks beneath his eyes are still there. His heart plummets.  
“You didn’t sleep,” he says, hoping his voice isn’t reproachful because it’s certainly not how he feels. And he doesn’t want Bucky to lie to make him feel better.  
“No, I didn’t. Strange new place, strange people…” Bucky smiles wryly.  
“Buck…”  
“I lied down and I relaxed. Really relaxed. Steve, do you… Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to relax? Well, I don’t. I don’t really remember. But it must be long.”

That’s the most words Bucky has said to him since his mask fell months ago. It’s also the first time Bucky has called him “Steve” since… He won’t go there. Instead of thinking about what Bucky can’t do, he’ll focus on what he can, which is feeling safe enough in his flat with him to not be on high alert.  
“I… You’re right. I shouldn’t have said…”  
Bucky gestures dismissively. “It came from a good place. _You_ slept.” The corners of his mouth turn up. He puts the plate piled high with pancakes on the table, which he has also set.  
Steve sits down, a bit shaken by the familiar domesticity of the scene. Bucky brings the coffee pot on the table, filling the mugs. The pancakes are drowning in butter. Bucky follows Steve’s look.  
“Yeah, couldn’t find any corn syrup. Good thing we don’t need to worry about cholesterol, right?”  
Steve huffs a laugh.  
He knows he hasn’t answered Bucky’s remark about his good night’s sleep. He thinks he knows why he was able to sleep.  
“You know, I think I slept because… because I knew where you were. And that you were safe.”

Bucky, who’s already wolfing down a pancake, gulps audibly, staring at him. Their eyes meet across the table, and hold. Then Bucky looks down, his brow crinkling. It’s cute.  
And wow, where did that thought come from? Steve takes a sip of coffee, not at all hiding behind his mug.

“Steve…” Bucky’s tone – and the use of his first name – are more than enough for Steve to look up. “Sometimes I remember the small things – like how to make pancakes – but I don’t always remember the big ones… or sometimes I think I remember but it’s… distorted and incomplete.” Steve nods his understanding, trying to keep his expression neutral because right now he wishes he could go and take out Hydra. All of Hydra. Slowly and painfully. “Back before… before the war… and… during the war… Were we…” Bucky’s eyes are resolutely fixed on the table. “Were we more than friends?”

That’s… unexpected.  
As if Bucky had pressed some sort of button, Steve’s mind starts replaying years of memories of him – with him. Always.  
The joy of Bucky offering to live with him after his Ma’s death. He had tried to refuse but he was glad Bucky had all but barged into his life.  
The gripping fear of Bucky being enlisted and leaving for a war Steve couldn’t follow him to. Bucky had also been in his thoughts when he had agreed to undergo the serum experiment.  
The searing pain of Bucky tumbling down that ravine, revisiting him every night in his nightmares.  
His very last thought for Bucky an instant before his plane crashed, thinking that at least he hadn’t had to wait too long to join him.  
The feeling of utter emptiness when he had awaken in that fake room and realised everyone he knew was gone, that he didn’t join Bucky after all, that he wouldn’t for a long time. The permanent hole at the center of his chest that nothing could seem to fill. The mask of the Winter Soldier falling and… BuckyBuckyBuckyBuckyBuckyBucky. Like a beam of light into his heart.  
The truth slams into Steve and it’s so simple and so genuine he doesn’t understand why he didn’t see it before.  
There’s a wooshing sound in his ears and he belatedly realises it’s the sound of his heart trying to beat out of his chest.

Steve’s eyes focus on the present. Bucky’s head is bowed, his shoulders hunched forwards. Steve realizes he’s probably been too long in answering. Reacting even. He can’t stand seeing him like this.  
“Bucky?” he softly calls. Bucky looks up and the resignation in his eyes cuts like a knife.  
“That’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t know why…”  
Oh, the irony. Bucky with his fractured memory is more perceptive than he’s been. Steve can’t help but wonder what kind of memories has led him to ask that question. Or maybe it was a feeling? Did Bucky…  
“Let me set a ground rule” – and in this moment Steve knows that he means for the years to come, because he has no intention of letting Bucky out of his sight ever again – “you can ask me anything. Anything at all you don’t remember, anything you don’t understand.”  
Bucky’s look is focused, laser-like. He nods.  
“We… we weren’t more than friends.” Steve sees Bucky’s face falling a little. In that moment he wishes he could have given him another answer but that would have been lying about their past, and Bucky has been lied to enough. “Can I… why did you ask?”  
Steve knows it’s unfair to ask him that. He knows he’s being selfish. Just like he knows he’s trying to avoid staring at Bucky but somehow still notices the infinitesimal expressions on his face, the way his hair softly frames his jaw, the stormy grey of his eyes, how his own tee-shirt fits him.

Bucky lets out a chuckle but it’s a dark one and Steve immediately understands that he pushed too far. “I’m sorry but no. I can’t… I can’t answer you, okay?”  
Bucky must be thinking Steve is playing games with him. Steve can’t let him think that for a moment more. Not now, not when he’s just realized that he… He takes a deep breath. If he crashes and burn, so be it. At least he’s got thicker skin than Bucky right now.

“Buck…” Steve gingerly puts his hands on top of Bucky’s. Slowly, to give him the time to avoid his touch if he wants. It’s the first time he touches Bucky since… God, last time was probably a quick hug before their last mission together. Before Bucky fell from that cursed train.  
He’s not… He’s not going to count the blows they exchanged fighting. He gets the horrible feeling that Bucky hasn’t been touched in a gentle manner in 75 years.  
Bucky doesn’t recoil. He just stares in fascination at Steve’s flesh hand on his metal one. He looks up, bewildered.

“Stevie?”  
Steve bites the inside of his cheek to not react to the use of that name, and he tastes blood. He can’t bring himself to move his hands away and Bucky doesn’t shake them off.

“Buck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see it sooner. I didn’t realize what it was. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind. I thought I loved you like a brother, but… When you enlisted and went to the war without me…”  
“You were jealous because you wanted to fight too…”  
“That, and also… You were going where I couldn’t follow, Buck. I was worried sick. So when Dr Erskine told me about the serum…”  
Bucky’s eyes grew wide. “You did this to follow me? You could have died, you fucking idiot. It could have killed you.”  
“It didn’t. It didn’t, and I found you again. Buck, you were my very last thought when the plane went down. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to be with you again. So it wasn’t so bad, dying. I don’t think that’s how I should have felt if you were only my friend.”

Bucky smiled tremulously. Steve had missed Bucky smiling. He felt Bucky’s hands shaking slightly under his – and how could the metal one shake?

Bucky inhaled deeply. “I asked because of how I felt after spying on you for a couple of weeks. I got this weird sensation in my chest the first time I saw you smile – you were sitting at this café terrace, drawing. I thought I was coming down with something, but… I realised I felt it when you looked happy. I realized the sensation was me being happy too. The more I observed you, the more stuff I remembered, bits and pieces. Made me think we were… I could have killed you on that helicarrier, Steve. You threw your goddamn shield away, trusting me not to kill you. I was… completely lost. I didn’t know what to think.”  
“You saved me.”  
“I couldn’t let you die, and I didn’t understand why.”  
Steve feels Bucky’s right hand going relaxed and steady under his and he becomes aware that his thumb is gently stroking Bucky’s knuckles. Probably has been for a while.  
“Buck… I’m so sorry I failed you.”  
“What bullshit are you on about?”  
“I should have seen… I should have realized that they had already done something to you after rescuing you. I was too busy fighting. I was too happy I was finally fighting, making a difference. I should have seen you weren’t quite the same.”  
“And… what would you have done about it?”  
“I… I could have sent you back home.”  
“The hell you’d have. I’d have never left your side.”  
“Then I should have… I should have been more insistent on going to Europe sooner, to where the fight was, instead of parading on stage in that ridiculous costume for months. You wouldn’t have been taken prisoner. They wouldn’t have…”  
“I’d be dead, Steve. If they hadn’t experimented on me, I’d be long gone right now. Buried deep in that fucking ravine.”  
“I… What they did to you… what they made you do… I don’t have the right to be glad that…”  
“You were always too damn selfless for your own good. The past’s the past, Steve. I have you now. Wouldn’t change that.” Steve realizes that it’s now Bucky who’s holding his hands. “And you looked damn good in that costume. I’ve seen the films at the museum.”  
Steve knows he’s blushing to the tip of his ears.  
“God, Buck…”  
“I like it when you look at me like that.”  
“Like what?”  
“When you don’t look like you’re searching for traces of someone else.”  
“I wasn’t…” Steve interrupts himself because he knows Bucky’s right. “Sorry.”  
“That guy’s no longer really completely here, you know. I think he hasn’t been for a while.”  
“I… I know. I know. It’s not like I haven’t changed at all myself. But I’m still Steve. And you’re still Bucky.” Steve smiles tentatively.  
“Yeah. Bits and pieces. Puzzle. I still don’t really know.”  
“We can discover that.” Steve doesn’t say “together”, but it’s heavily implied.  
“We still friends?”  
Steve shakes his head. Bucky’s fingers tense on his hands. “Much more than friends.”  
Bucky smiles. Genuinely smiles. It’s like basking in the sun’s light after 75 years under the cold ice.  
“I don’t know if I know how to do that,” Bucky says.  
“Me neither. We can learn together?”

The coffee and the pancakes are long cold and forgotten when Bucky tentatively, gently, but passionately touches his lips to Steve’s.


End file.
